Road to salvation
by Izzy Dixon
Summary: Starts after the events of season one. Michael reunites with a sister he hasn't seen in nearly a hundred years. With nowhere to go for protection, the two have to survive the ruin on their own. Old wounds will be opened and past pains relived. Can Michael's little sister help him get over what he done? No longer going into season two.
1. Chapter 1

The archangel has been flying for days now, unable to land due to the crushing anger and guilt raging inside him. He shouldn't have done it. Killed those people. Killed Becca. But at the same time, he was right to. They were torturing angels for experimentation. Ripping out their wings and pinning them to their walls like some sort of prize.

The thoughts bring back the images and the images bring back the rage. A group of eight balls flock in the streets of an abandoned town below, circling the stupid human that dared enter alone. Perfect. The angel angles himself downwards, folding his wings slightly to allot for more speed. His shadow appears over the group and they turn their eyes skyward, just in time for two eight balls to receive the business ends of his blades.

The rest of the group loosens its formation, making space around the archangel as he fully folds his wings in. The human, a small framed young man, whips around to face him with his gun raised. Michael stares back at him blankly, not bothering to hide his displeasure at this man's action. "Leave," he orders flatly. "Now."

Lucky for the man, he doesn't take long to follow the order and shoves his gun back in its holster before sprinting toward the opening behind Michael. The eightballs lunge after their escaping prey, but Michael's faster, slicing through three chest cavities and allowing the man the proper time to flee. It also causes all the eightballs to lock their attention on him.

He takes an offensive stance and waits, watching as the group circles him. When the group gets tired of circling, they finally attack. His blades are a blur as they decapitate, slice, and otherwise take down the possessed beings . The carnage lasts only a few seconds, but it's enough time for Michael's rage to settle. Father always said he had the worst temper of his children, he just never paid much attention to it.

Blood colors the otherwise barren desert ground and drips from his swords, forming small crimson puddles near his feet. The battle doesn't take much out of him, but after nearly a week of nonstop flight, he's left huffing in the middle of a circle of death. A shadow blocks out the sun for half a second, but it's enough to put Michael on edge. His weapons are raised again as he scans the skies above.

A heavy flap of wings and the sound of something landing on the dirt behind him causes Michael to turn, tips of his swords leveling with the figure's neck. If they had been any closer, their head would've been on the ground. Instead, the edge barely kisses the throat of its target.

"You're getting sloppy, Michael," the female says, using her finger to nudge the blade from her throat. "Your swings are wider than normal and your footing was off."

The voice rings familiar in Michael's ears, surprising the angel into lowering his weapons on his own. "Nico?"

The angel smiles, brushing her bangs from her happy blue eyes. Her black hair is different than he remembers, the left side barely brushing past her shoulder as the right stops at mid ribcage. Her dirt covered green shirt sticks to her sweat sheened torso while her one size too large denim shorts barely hang onto her hips. If it wasn't for the weapons belt, they wouldn't. As usual she's barefoot, but she's alive and healthy, so Michael decides to lecture her later. "You sound surprised, brother," she says, lifting an arm to shield her eyes from the sun. "How's it been?"

"Surprised isn't exactly a word I would use," he responds, allowing his arms to come to a full rest as his sides. "Annoyed? That sounds better."

The teenage angel snorts in amusement at her brothers quip and she runs a hand through her windblown locks. "I see you still have no sense of humor, big brother," she comments, lifting her other hand to fold them behind her head. "And you've cut your hair. Shame. You looked better with it long."

"What are doing here, Nico?" the older angel asks, earning a curious look from his sister in response. "You were in the Middle East the last time you contacted me. Why are sudden change in location?"

Nico shrugs and unfolds her arms to stretch them over her head lazily. "I wanted a change in scenery," she replies as she drops her arms back to her sides. "The war took a toll over there, so I came to see how everything was going over here. Clearly though..." She pauses to scan the bloodied corpses around them and a mock frown of disgust plays on her lips. "...there isn't much of a difference."

Michael frowns in disappointment and levels his gaze on his sister. "You know it's pointless to lie to me," the older angel comments, finally getting around to replacing his swords in their casings. He watches as the humor on Nico's face fades and is replaced with defeat. "Why are you really here?"

At first, it actually seems that Nico is about to argue with him. In half a minute the words form then die on her tongue, leaving only a sigh of defeat and a disappointed look. "I came to see if there really is a Chosen One," she admits in a childish huff. "I heard Gabriel discussing it with one of his followers when they were scouting over there and I came here to follow them."

Michael huffs in annoyance but isn't surprised by her tale. Even in her early stages of life, Nico was a curious one. Always wandering off to explore even after being told not to. Her following Gabriel because of a story she heard is probably the least problematic thing that has happened because she couldn't contain herself. "Whatever you heard was correct," he responds after a moment. "Gabriel has found the Chosen One. In fact, the Chosen One is probably with him as we speak."

Nico raises an eyebrow in confusion. "But Gabriel said that you had the Chosen One locked up with you in some ruined city," she half asks. "What happened?"

The memories of that night replay in his head and his hands clench into fists. He refuses to meet her gaze, instead locking onto one of the dead eight balls near his feet. "A lot," he responds coldly.

A moment of heavy silence fills the air around them, Michael still avoiding his sister's eyes. After a few seconds of the stillness, the younger angel throws her head back in annoyance and a sound of pure pent up agitation rolls from somewhere deep in her core. The brother is pulled from his daze by the sudden outburst and he finally looks at his sister. "I hate it when you're vague, brother," she complains, head still back as she practically groans the words. "I'm not a child, Michael! I can handle it!"

The archangel blinks. "Pardon?" he inquires, causing the smaller angel to roll her head back to normal. "I am not treating you as a child, Nico," he retaliates. "I simply don't wish to speak of it at this moment."

Nico scoffs and rolls her eyes, throwing an arm up in exasperation in his direction. "You could have said that earlier," she says in the same childish tone as before.

"I thought it would be obvious," Michael counters calmly, lifting his gaze to the setting sun. "It's getting late," he continues before his sister has a chance to interrupt. "We need to find somewhere to sleep for the night."

Nico's eyebrow rises again. "We?" she inquires in expectancy. "What do you mean we?"

"We have been away from each other for nearly one hundred years, sister," he says stoically. "The world is different than it was back then. It's dangerous."

Nico scoffs again and folds her arms over her chest. "I can take care of myself," she counters.

Michael frowns as he scans the empty houses around them. "Isn't that the exact thing you said in Pompeii?"

"Pompeii was an accident!" Nico says, arms thrown up again. "I told you that!"

Michael hums in fake agreement and spots a semi-suitable two-story a few streets down. "Right," he says sarcastically, starting down in the direction of the house. "Now come on. We need to secure the perimeter before it gets too dark."

Nico groans in irritation but follows behind her brother. "I want you to know, I liked you least of all our brothers and sisters," she calls, keeping an instinctive eye out for any of the possessed. Michael gives the same half attentive hum from earlier and continues forward. "I'm serious," Nico continues, kicking a stray stone along her path. "I like Uriel more than I like you, and Uriel's a-"

"Language," he scolds flatly, still only half paying attention to his youngest sibling's insults. She continues her ramblings, but Michael isn't paying attention. His eyes are focused on taking in their temporary house.

It was nice back in the times before the war. The once light blue paint is now faded to almost white from elemental abuse and lack of care. Part of the large front porch has collapsed, the stairs and entire left half leveled on the ground. The glass around the front door is shattered and the door is wide open, setting man on edge with every step he takes. Two of the four front facing windows upstairs are broken along with one of the downstairs windows, though no glass is on the ground outside. He takes it as a sign that something or someone broke in. Whether or not that something left is up to fate, so Michael draws his swords just in case.

"Stay behind me," the archangel instructs, lightly leaping onto the unstable but still standing part of the porch. "I'm going to sweep the inside."

The younger agent finally stops her ranting and snorts in amusement. "That isn't happening," she responds through a smile. She closes the distance between her and the house and hops up beside her brother. "It'll go much faster if we split the house to search." Without waiting for an answer, the teenage angel slides a small knife from the hip holster on her weapons belt and steps inside. Michael, after signing heavily through his nose, lifts his own weapons and follows Nico inside.

Nico seems to pay no mind to the shattered glass that crackles under her feet with each step as she walks but Michael still notes to find her some shoes as soon as possible. "Hello," she calls, earning a look of mild disbelief from her brother in response. "Anybody home?"

"What are you doing?" the older brother asks, stepping up to stand in front of her.

Nico shrugs. "It's better than walking around paranoid," she counters, motioning to a room to her left with her knife. "If nothing died on it, I call that couch."

Michael keeps looking for a moment longer before following her knife. The living room is in shambles. Glass from the broken window sparkles on the ground in the setting sunlight, littering the dark blue carpet with pieces of orange. Large hole in the ceiling leaves pieces of wood, drywall, plaster and other house materials hanging haphazardly from above and a lot more in a pile on the ground, most of that ending up on the couch Nico indicated. The television lies face down on the ground amongst other remnants of past life. Shattered picture frames with still smiling faces in them sit in broken piles in random places of the floor.

Michael takes one look around and shakes his head. "Absolutely not," he says, turning away from the carnage and starting deeper in. He ignores Nico's sigh of protest and heads toward the stairs. "You take down here," he instructs from halfway up. "Call if you need anything."

Nico snorts and lifts her knife in half attempted defense. "As I said, brother," she says as she starts for the kitchen. "I can take care of myself."

The rest of the sweep is done in mostly silence, the only sounds coming from when one of them opens a door or when Nico clicks her tongue in hopes of attracting something. They meet up back in the living room and Michael looks at her expectantly. "Anything?"

The black haired teen shakes her head and replaces her knife in its casing. "Nothing but roaches and a few terrified cats," she replies through a poorly smothered yawn. "You?"

"Nothing," he says, taking one last glance around the place. "We have to sleep downstairs. The roof gave way in some places and an eightball could get in." He sees the spark of triumph form in Nico's eyes and he speaks before she does. "We aren't sleeping in the living room either," he continues. "There are too many ways for anyone to get in here as well."

Nico groans and drops her head back again. "My couch," she says through her groan. The complaints last for another few seconds before she sighs in defeat and puts her head back up. "The kitchen is pretty stable," she informs in a disappointed huff. "No windows. The ceiling is in one piece... I think there's even food in there."

The thought of food causes Michael's stomach to tighten in hunger. "Are you sure it's stable?" he asks, trying to focus on the main task.

The younger angel rolls her eyes and sighs. "I was in there," she responds in an agitated huff. "Do you not trust my judgement?"

"It's not your judgement I don't trust," he says, passing her on his way to the kitchen in the back. "It's your ability to tell actual safety that makes me uneasy."

"Why's that?" Nico asks, following her brother with a raised eyebrow.

"Pompeii."

"That was an accident!"

A slight smirk touches the corners of Michael's lips as he enters through the wide kitchen doorway. The door to the pantry lies in two broken halves on the floor, most of the canned goods spilled out and splattered in blood. The oven is face down on the tile and dragged out in the middle of the room. Half the contents of the refrigerator is scattered on the ground and the door is across the room. The light fixture above is broken and its glass lies under it on the ground.

Other than the immediate damage, there's nothing crippling about the area the area she saw potential in. The outward window is still intact. There's no giant holes anywhere. The only real thing they would need to do is clear a big enough area and dragged some clean blankets down. Michael nods once in approval and finally gets around to replacing his swords.

"This will work," he states, earning an unseen victory smirk from his little sister. "We need to clean up first. Go get some shoes an-"

Nico stops her dancing and raises her eyebrows at her brother. "Excuse me?" she asks, leaning closer as if to hear him better. "Shoes?"

"I was clear the first time," he says, turning to face her as he speaks. "Go get shoes and we can start."

The black haired female snorts and places a hand on her hip. "You're joking right? Michael, I'm old enough to know whether or not the situation requires shoes."

"There is broken glass everywhere."

"And we can clean it up."

The two have a thirty second glare down before Nico groans and turns away. "Fine!" she shouts in irritation as she starts toward the stairs. "I'll get some stupid shoes!"

Michael nods and turns back to the disaster area. "Bring blankets as well," he calls over his shoulder. He earns an angry sound as response as she disappears up the stairs. Once she's gone, the archangel fully enters the kitchen. He grabs both sides of the overturned oven and lifts, easily tightening it and pushing it back into place.

"I got the blankets," Nico says, appearing in the doorway with an armload of half folded blankets. Michael turns and glances at her feet, nodding in approval at the over sized black flip flops she has on. "What now?"

"Put them down somewhere and start sweeping," he instructs, kicking a broken box of graham crackers away with his foot. "We have to get situated before nightfall."

Nico drops the pile on the ground and mock salutes, turning to the closet a few feet away. "Aye, aye, captain," she mocks mechanically. "I'll clean the poop deck nice n shiny, yes I will."

Michael rolls his eyes and continues to move food, checking each object for anything edible and sorting them in piles. After about an hour of work, the angels have the large kitchen cleared and a nest of blankets is made in the center. The window over the sink is blocked by a box spring Michael brought down and positioned, allowing them enough cover to light a small fire in the broken oven. Most of the food Michael deemed edible is over the expiration date, but with no other options at the time, they eat more than half of it. Nico managed to slip away from her brother's watch for enough time to explore other houses and find a change of clothes for both of them, a few pieces of medical supplies, a decent sized bag for any other supplies they may find, enough water to last them at least a week, and a .45 caliber pistol with fifteen shots.

After Michael fussed at her about leaving without telling him, the siblings changed into their cleaner clothes and are now lying on the still hard floor in front of the fire. "Today was successful," Nico comments lazily, twirling a shorter piece of her hair around a finger. Her new clothes consists of a plain red long sleeved shirt and a pair of dark gray shorts that actually fit better than the other pair. Of course she's still barefoot, but Michael is starting to give up in that argument. "What's on tomorrow's agenda?"

Michael, who now dons a familiar outfit of a black shirt, black jeans, and a black leather coat, takes another drink from one of the gallons of water Nico brought back. "Survive," he says, recapping the jug and setting it beside his swords on the floor.

Nico furrows her eyebrows and glances over at him, tilting her head sideways so she doesn't have to sit up. "Is that it?" she asks, earning a single conformation nod from her brother in reply. "That's lame."

"That's all I have," he admits flatly as he shifts to lay on his side facing away from her. "Now go to sleep. We have to leave in the morning before the eightballs get curious."

The younger sister keeps her confused eyes locked on the brother's back for another few seconds before huffing and shifting her gaze back to the ceiling. "It's still a lame plan," she says, removing an arm length black pole from its holder on her hip. "A really lame plan at that."

"Go to sleep, Nico."

Nico mocks the words but closes her eyes anyway. "Stupid plan..."


	2. Chapter 2

**I never manage to put these in the first chapter but I own nothing but Nico. Thank you for everyone who read, favorited, and followed this and a special thanks to Eziliveve for being the first one to rreview. Thanks!**

 _The dead angel lies on the table in front of him, glassy eyes locked on a place just above his head. The hole in his chest isn't bleeding anymore, but a steady drop of blood still creates a thin puddle on the ground. Rage tints his mind, clouding his judgement and causing every sense to jump into overdrive._

 _"Michael."_

 _He turns to face a wide eyed Becca, her mouth hanging open in search of the right words. As if she just realized where they were, her eyes dart around the area, taking in her created horrors as if for the first time. "You weren't supposed to see this."_

 _His hand is around her throat in a heartbeat, lifting her in the air as she claws his hands for air. He's shouting, but he can't hear what he's saying. Becca is crying. Her neck snaps, as easy as breaking a dry twig. He drops her._

 _He doesn't know how long he stares at her but suddenly, her head turns. Her once glassy eyes now locked and focuses on him. Her lips part. "Monster."_

"Michael."

 _He turns toward the voice to find Alex, gun drawn and also aimed at him._

"Michael."

 _Same voice, not Alex's. The rage still boils in his core and his hands are trembling._

"Michael!"

The archangel's eyes fly open, hands clenched around his swords before he even knew what was happening. He lashes out wildly, narrowly missing his target's chest as they jump back. The figure takes another few stumbling steps backward as Michael leaps to his feet, eyes focusing more now that he's active. His next two swings are countered, leaving a metallic ringing in the air as he continues his pursuit. More anger wells in his core at the fading memories and fuels the attacks, putting more force and speed into his blows.

"Michael!"

The voice is familiar so he hesitates, the rest of the dream fading and leaving him in reality. Nico stands on the complete opposite side of the kitchen, the black pole from before drawn and held in front of her in preparation for the next attack. Her eyes are wide and focused, looking more like a proper warrior than herself at the moment. They stand like that for a few seconds, both watching the other for any sudden movements.

"Are you done?" the younger angel asks, body relaxing slightly as Michael lowers his swords. Once his weapons are fully lowered, Nico drops her own defensive stance and a hesitant smile teeters on her lips. "It's a bit early for a sparring match, brother," she says, replacing the pole in its holder on her hip. "Any particular reason why?"

Michael stands for a moment, hands still clutched tightly around his swords as the rest of the unease fades away. The feeling passes soon enough and he slides his weapons back in their casings. "No," he states flatly, shifting to glance out the living room window. The sun barely peeks over the horizon, painting the sky bright orange and blue. "It's early," he states, changing the subject before Nico asks too many questions. "Why are you awake?"

Nico shrugs and hops up to sit on the counter behind her, bare feet swinging lazily and gently hitting the cabinet door. "It's hard to stay asleep when you talk loudly in your sleep," she sums through a yawn. "You kept saying something about monsters." He head tilts sideways, the shorter part of her hair falling in her face as her questioning look bounces off her brother's back. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, leaning farther in attempt to see Michael's face.

"No," he states, finalizing the conversation without turning around. "We need to get ready to move," he says to change the subject again. "The eightballs should be starting to find shelter for the day and this is the perfect place for them. I don't want us to be caught in here if they come."

The black-haired teenager groans and leans back to rest against one of the remaining cabinets. "You're so paranoid," she moans, drawing out each word dramatically as she looks at the ceiling. "I'm pretty sure nothing is coming in here, Michael," she complains, turning her attention back to her brother's back. "Can't we stay for another day?"

Michael finally turns back to face her, dark eyes locking with her bright ones with clear no nonsense glare in them. "No," he states. "Get your stuff. We leave in five minutes."

Nico holds her brother's glare for half a second before releasing another annoyed sound. "One day I'm not going to listen to you," she declares, hopping from the counter in reluctant compliance. "I'm going to look you in the eye, say no, and stand by my no."

Despite the mild tension that lingers in his body, the older brother manages an amused smirk at his sister's complaints. "You said that one of that last times we met," he recalls, watching her shove the remaining food and water in the bag. "And yet you always follow orders."

"I still hate you," she mutters, checking the clip in the pistol before shoving that in the back of her pants. "Well, that's about the extent of my stuff..."

"Mine as well," the archangel says, making sure his swords are secure in their casings. "Let's go."

Nico rolls her eyes and grabs the bag, pulling the longer of the straps across her chest so it doesn't fall off while flying. "I'm not carrying this the entire time," she declares, following her brother out toward the front door. "And you better have an idea of where we're going. I don't want to fly around the world cause you can't decide where to nap."

Michael half-tunes into his sister's rambles -he's heard it all at least seven times in the past- and makes his way to the front door, peering through the broken glass on the side before actually exiting. "I don't nap," he retorts flatly, scanning the street from the broken porch. "I either sleep or I don't."

The black haired angel hums thoughtfully and smiles widely, snapping her fingers as if she just figured out the conclusion to a major problem. "That why you're so cranky!" she declares proudly as she steps outside. "I knew there was a reason. I just never knew what it was."

Michael shoots his sister a glare and rolls his eyes at her returned smile. "I am not cranky," he retorts, lightly stepping off the porch before turning to face her with a hand extended.

The teenage angel snorts and accepts the offered hand. "You're very cranky," she chuckles, hopping down and smiling at her brother. "You just got used to your crankiness over the years."

Once again, Michael rolls his eyes taking a few steps back to allow himself more take off room. "I'm already regretting this decision," he comments just before unfurling his wings and taking off.

Nico scoffs and readjusts the bag so it doesn't interfere with her own take off. "Jerk," she grumbles with a forced smirk. Her own light blue wings snap from her back and she's airborne.

The duo are in the air for most of the day, stopping only to eat and relieve themselves. Nico soon grows tired of the constant pointless flying and speeds up, leveling herself with her brother so their wings brush against each other on the down strokes. "I want to land," she calls over the roar of the wind.

Michael turns his head to look at her. "No," he calls back. "We land at night."

"Why?" the younger angel calls, causing the older brother to turn his head away without responding. Nico groans and turns her gaze to the ground below. Another town, slightly larger than the neighborhood before, litters the area, most of it debris but some parts still standing. "We should land for supplies," she calls, redirecting her attention back to her inattentive brother. "Michael!" Still no response. The teen groans in annoyance and shakes her head. "Fine," she mutters through a devious smirk. She pushes backwards with her wings, forcing herself into a stop before angling downward and rocketing toward the town.

She squints against the wind and almost misses her mark, getting her wings out by the narrowest margin to avoid splattering on the road. Once she's slow enough,the female angel lightly lands on the heated pavement and hisses when her bare feet make contact. "I hate the desert," she complains, hopping to the nearest yard as her wings fold themselves away.

Another strong wing beat and then a landing. "Nico!" Michael shouts angrily, causing the young angel to flinch as he approaches. "That was probably the stupidest thing you have ever done! What were you thinking?"

A nervous, shit-eating grin pulls Nico's lips up and she turns to face her enraged brother. "I was thinking about food?" she tries, taking a step back when her brother gets close.

"We have food," he says through tightly gritted teeth. "I already said no-"

"But we need supplies," she counters lifting a finger to silence his rants. "What we got from the house isn't enough to last a week out here. We need more before anything else happens."

Michael holds his glare for a few seconds before signing heavily through his nose and looking away. "The next time you do like that," he starts, calming down slightly before turning back to her, "it won't be good for you."

Nico snorts and glances around the area. "That probably the weakest threat you've ever made, brother," she comments through a smirk. "Maybe you aren't as cranky as I thought."

The older brother sends his sister another glance and sighs again through his nose. "I refuse to dignify that with another response," he states flatly, turning his attention back to the other side of the street. "We're not separating," he decides, scanning the deserted area for any signs of life. "That's final."

Nico lifts her arms over her head in a full body stretch. "I wasn't going to argue," she says through a grunt. "I can't walk on the ground cause it's hot and I'm not getting shoes. So since neither of us will compromise, I need a piggyback ride."

Michael furrows his brow and turns to look at her fully. "I am not giving you a piggyback ride."

"Michael!"

"Nico, you are over eighteen thousand year old. I am not carrying you around because you refuse to wear shoes."

Nico groans and drops her arms back to her side. "Michael, please?"

He shakes his head and starts toward the house behind her. "No," he says, but the tone he uses makes Nico assume he's not finalizing his decision.

"Michael," she calls, spinning on a heel to follow him. "Michael, I'm not invincible. I need to protect my feet!"

"Wear shoes then."

"Michael, please."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Sorry I'm updating late. I got caught up on Sunday and didn't have time to write. So I wrote all day yesterday and today to get it done. Thank you for everyone who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed! I'm going to publish more consistently from now on, but I'm also applying for jobs and such, so I can't promise much. Anyhow, here's the chapter!**

 **I own nothing!**

"Do you think trees have feelings?"

Michael's brow furrows in confusion and he turns his head slightly. "What are you talking about?" he asks Nico, who sits her head on his shoulder while she rests comfortably on his back.

"Think about it," she continues, gazing thoughtfully at the house at the end of the street. "Humans used to chop them, trim them, climb them, burn them, strip them of their branches, build things in them, build things from them, lay under them-"

"Your point, Nico?" Michael says, cutting her off before she could go any further.

The younger sister frowns slightly at the interruption but continues as if it didn't happen. "My point is that tree have been around longer than humanity, right? And humanity has evolved in all the time it's been here. So who's to say that trees haven't evolved as well. Not far enough to walk or speak yet, but enough to think about its own being and process situations into their own emotions. So when humans cut them and their families down, they can watch and feel everything going on, but they can't verbalize their fear or move away from it." She pauses a moment to think and tilts her head to tap against Michael's. "I don't think I would be able to live like that..."

Michael frowns slightly and lifts a hand to her forehead. "I think you've been in the sun too long," he says, his hand being moved away when Nico swats it. "We can rest for a while. I believe we've gotten enough supplies to last us a while."

Nico smiles and squints against the sun as her brother walks toward the nearest house. "We did good," she says happily, shifting the full duffle bag so its more comfortable on her back. "We did really good."

"Yes, yes," the older angel replies, shifting his sister to the ground once he steps on the grass. "Now get some water. I'm going-"

"We're going," Nico corrects as she lifts the bag over her head and fishes a water jug from it.

The older angel sighs through his nose and retrieves one of his swords from its casing. "Fine," he huffs reluctantly, turning to face the house as Nico drinks. "We're going in. We'll rest here for the night. Only because I think you're not well."

"I'm well," she replies once she swallows and recaps the jug. "I'm just thinking deeply."

"You're clearly not," Michael replies, easing toward the stairs to the front door. Everything seems secure and in order, but Michael is always on edge. "Well, I mean. You completely over thought the whole tree issue."

Nico chuckles and situates everything in the bag, zips it up, and pulls the strap back over her head. "I have imagination, brother," she says, stepping beside her brother to rest an ear on the door. "Something you've lost over the years." Michael's eye roll is lost on her as she straightens from the door. "Quiet," she says, sliding her knife from its holder and jamming it into the door frame. "That's either really good or really bad."

After some force is applied, there's a small snap and the door creaks open. Nico smiles victoriously and twirls the knife in her hand. She moves to take a step forward, but a firm hand clamps down on her shoulder and stops her from moving. "You will not bang on anything," Michael says as Nico glances at him over her shoulder. "You will not call for anyone. You will not attempt to bring anything to us. It's distracting and irritating and makes us lose the element of surprise."

The younger angel sighs and shakes her brother's hand from her shoulder. "You have no fun," she mutters as she eases the door open. Once there's a wide enough hole, Nico pokes her head inside and checks the area. Nothing. The door is nudged open wider and she steps inside, Michael not too far behind her. The duo break up and take different levels, Michael the top and Nico the lower. They meet back up in the living room per usual and Nico drops the bag and flops on the red plush couch near the wall. "Now what?" she asks, resting her head on the back of the couch.

"We rest," Michael says simply, lowering himself to the couch in a more graceful manner. "Stay the night and move out in the morning." He reaches for the bag and pulls it into his lap, unzipping it and pulling out a few granola bars they found a couple houses down. "Eat," he half orders, handing three of the bars to his sister. "Then try to rest."

Nico snorts and accepts the bars, setting two on her lap as she tears the wrapper off one. "It's barely sundown," she counters, frowning slightly at the expired bar. "I couldn't get to sleep even if I tried."

Michael huffs through his nose and sets a few of the bars in his own lap. "So stubborn," he mutters, retrieving a gallon of water from the bag and setting it at his feet. "Always wanting the final word and never following orders..."

The younger angel snorts again and lifts a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. "I follow orders, brother," she counters once she finished her bite. "I just don't like you enough not to question them."

"Is there anyone whose orders you don't question?" he asks, handing her another jug to his sister.

Nico purses her lips in thought as she accepts the water, then smiles as she sets it on the couch beside her. "Other than Father, no," she replies honestly with a small shake of the head. "I can't recall anyone else."

Michael manages a small smirk at her reply and nods slightly. "Sounds about right," he says as he plucks a bar from his lap.

The two eat in silence for a few minutes before Nico sighs and stretches. "I think I could use that nap," she comments reluctantly, kicking her bare feet up and resting them on Michael's legs while reclining against the arm of the couch. "All your useless flying wore me out more than I thought."

Michael sighs through his nose but doesn't push her off. Instead, he shifts back and folds his arms over his chest. "Just don't kick," he instructs as his sister folds her hands behind her head.

"I don't kick," Nico mutters, already sounding more asleep than she originally let on. "Not in my sleep at least."

The older angel smiles faintly and sends a skeptical glance in her direction. "The bruises you gave me when you were younger say otherwise," he counters only receiving a heavy sigh in reply. His smile grows slightly before he turns away and allows his own eyes to slide shut.

 _A vast desert stands before him, desolate in every sense of the word. Behind him, buzzards feed on the corpses of the dead, ignoring the smoldering remains of the city they lie in. The drying blood on Michael's hands cracks when he finally unclenches his fists, trembling slightly as the last of the adrenaline runs its course._

 _"Michael," a familiar female voice says from behind, a voice he's known for so long he doesn't need to turn to know who it is. "What have you done?"_

 _He turns slowly, fully facing Uriel's horror and disappointment before he can think of a proper reply. "Father gave specific orders," he says stoically, watching as his sister takes in the full extent of his destruction. "He said-"_

 _"He said to end humanity," she shouts, silencing any other words before Michael can form them. "Not slaughter them without mercy!" Michael has no response for the accusation, so Uriel continues. "We have simpler means of destruction, Michael! And you still choose to bloody your own hands!"_

 _"It's an art," Michael defends, taking a step towards his sister to enforce his point. "A necessary evil to do Father's work."_

 _"There are children, Michael!" Uriel shouts in response, taking a fearless step forward as her brother did. "Dead! Children! Because you wanted art!" Again, Michael is rendered speechless against her assaults. Her eyes hold him in place and her anger burns through him as she locks into his eyes. "You're no better than the worst human at this point," she says coldly, making sure to pour as much venom in her words as possible. "You are a monster, brother."_

"Michael!"

The archangel jerk backs to awareness feeling as if he were submerged in ice water. His heart jumps in his chest, causing his breathing to become erratic in attempt to keep up. It takes him a moment to recognize his surroundings and he relaxes slightly when he does, furrowing his brow in confusion when Nico isn't in her spot.

"Michael!"

It's the fear in her voice that pulls Michael to his feet, his swords drawn and at the ready as he moves. Nico's voice sounded like it came from outside, so he starts there, kicking the door from its hinges as to not waste time. His eyes adjust quickly to the silver glow the moonlight casts on the area and his steps falter at the sight.

Nico stands in the center of a circle of twelve heavily armed strangers, half of whom turn their weapons to him when he bursts out. The younger angel isn't trembling, but her fear is clear to anyone who knows what to look for. Fortunately, Michael does. Her hands clenched into tight fists above her head and the tension in her jaw are the first ones Michael spots and it fuels the anger bubbling in his core.

"Nico," he says, voice calm in warning as he looks around at the others. "What happened?"

The younger angel bites her lip nervously and looks down at her feet. "I woke up and I was bored," she starts, tensing and looking up when she hears a safety being clicked off a gun. "So I went out for a walk. Just twice up and down the block, I promise." She pauses at Michael's glare, but continues when it redirects away from her. "I wasn't really paying attention since I thought we were alone and...well..." Her arm shifts to motion to the armed people around her. "Yeah..."

Michael sighs through his nose and his grip changes, tightening harshly in preparation for an attack. "Nico," he says, bending at the knees to lunge. "Follow-"

"Wait!" one of the people says, stepping from the circle and lowering his gun. "Hold on! I know this guy!" Michael's brow rises in confusion as the man removes his safety mask. It takes a moment for it to click but when it does, Michael straightens. The lanky young man from before rushes forward and stands on the ground between the other soldiers and the stairs Michael stands on. "I know this guy!" he says again, holding his hands up to get them to lower their guns. "This is the person I told you about! The one with the wicked wings who saved me a few days ago!"

Nico sends a curious look between the man and Michael, the latter of the two looking just as confused as she does. The man, who Nico assumes to be the leader, turns and faces Michael. "What are you doing here, man?" he asks, body language giving off an odd mixture of calm and mildly energetic.

Michael looks away from him and locks eyes with Nico. "I was resting for the night with my sister," he replies cooly. "But now... "

The man look from Michael to Nico and makes the connection. "Oh, shit!" he says,hurrying to the soldiers and physically pushing their guns down. "Stand down, people!" he orders, making Nico tense when he steps too close. "Stand down!"

Once all the guns are down, Nico unfurls her wings and takes off, only getting a few seconds of air time before landing on the ground beside Michael. The older angel steps down from the stairs and places himself in front of his sister. "Whoa!" the young man says, eyes wide as he watches Nico's wings fold back in. "Little sis got wings too? That's awesome!"

"What do we do?" Nico asks when the man turns away, dominant hand fiddling nervously with the black bar on her hip. "If we fly, we leave our entire body open. If we run, we could shield ourselves with our wings, but it blinds us on the sides. We could fight?"

"No," he says, carefully watching the man talk to the soldiers. "Maybe we won't have to."

The man turns back to the angels with a wide smile on his face. "Good news!" he declares almost proudly, causing Michael to raise his swords when he steps closer. "We decided you can come home with us!"

Nico's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and she looks up at her brother. "Maybe we will have to fight," he mutters before redirecting his full attention to the other group. "What do you mean, we can go home with you?" he asks. "We never-"

"Let me rephrase that," the man interrupts, lifting a hand to prevent Michael from speaking. "You come home with us, or we kill you right here."

The siblings tense, but for completely different reasons. Nico tenses in shock. Michael in challenge. The grip the older angel has on his swords tighten and he takes a step forward. This causes the rest of the soldiers to raise their weapons, but Michael is too focused on the other man to care. "I'd like to see you try," he practically growls through tightly gritted teeth.

Nico eyes the area tentatively, hand still fiddling with the bar out of habit. The tension in the air is thick, but the smile still remains on the lanky man's face. After what feels like an eternity, the man claps his hands together and laughs harshly. "Alright," he replies, unclasping his hands and holding them up in surrender. "You win... We'll do this the hard way."

The man snaps his fingers and a single shot rings out. A sharp, small pain stings Michael's chest and his grip on his swords loosens. His vision becomes blurry and he shakes his head to clear it before looking down to his chest. A small, yellow feather-tipped dart protrudes from the left side of his chest, the glass vial it's made out of empty save the few, purple drops that stick on the sides. More blurriness fills his vision as Michael rips the dart out, tossing it aside as if it were on fire.

"Michael?" Nico asks, voice sounding far away and muffled like he's under water. The swords fall from his hands and his legs buckle, causing him to rock forward and fall to his knees. "Michael!" Another shot and Nico yelps, stumbling back out of shock with a hand to her neck. Her body reacts faster to the poison, the new mixture of adrenaline and fear causing her heart to race in her chest.

The older angel falls forward as his sister slumps against the side of the house, sliding down to sit in the dirt. Michael watches hazily as four pairs of boots hustle forward, two of the four passing him in favor of grabbing his sister. Two pairs of rough hands grab him by his upper arms and hauls him up, his feet dragging behind him as they haul him toward the first man.

"Oh, Michael," he says, forcing Michael to attempt to lift his heavy head from his chest. "That is your name, isn't it? Your little sister called you that a few times now. It suits you." Michael opens his mouth in attempt to speak, but his tongue feels like lead in his mouth. "Shh," the first man says, crouching down to Michael's current eye level. "Don't talk. That comes later." The man places a hand on Michael's head and pushes it back down to his chest. "Just sleep," he says in the same far away voice Nico had. "We can talk when you wake up."

Michael's strength fades completely and his entire body goes numb, leaving him dead weight in the hands of his captors. The last thing he remembers before he blacks out is jumbled words and his feet dragging when they start walking away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Welcome back! Sorry for the late chapter but I was having an off week! But I'm back now and I made the executive decision to post a chapter every two weeks instead of every week, but only because I'm working on two more stories with this one and it's kind of hard to type on a tablet. So yeah! Anyhow yeah! Onto the chapter!**

 **I own nothing!**

Michael awakens slowly, vision still blurred terribly when he struggles to peel his eyes open. An involuntary groan rises from his core when he pushes himself to a sitting position, causing his already swirling head to pound violently. That earns another groan from the archangel as he sits up fully and supports himself with an arm. The other is used to pinch the bridge of his nose and rub his eyes. His mind swims through a thick fog as he grapples in attempt to piece together where he is and why.

First thing that comes into focus is the is the poorly painted white cinder block wall. Michael blinks again and the floor comes through next, plain gray cement that's pretty cold now that he realizes it. A large, red bucket sits in one of the corners of the room and he frowns in disgust at the possible use of said bucket.

Something connects in Michael's mind when he spots the red and his mind soup thickens in attempt to finish the connection. His head throbs again he pinches the bridge of his nose harder in attempt to clear it.

Red...red...clothes? That sounds right. But which piece of clothes? Pants? No. Shirt? Right...Long sleeved. Why is it important? Who wears red? Another painful and annoyed groan rolls from Michael's chest as his still foggy mind wrestles with the evasive thoughts. It's like trying to listen to one of younger Nico's sleep deprived ideas for the future.

His mind snaps to clarity at the thought and the memories of the attack fill his head. Nico. Where's Nico? The older angel can't get his body to move properly yet, but he still gathers enough strength to twist his upper body to search the room. His eyes automatically lock onto the dirty, red-shirted figure behind him as soon as he turn and a slight nervousness tightens his stomach at still form that usually is his energetic sister.

"Nico," he croaks, tongue still heavy with whatever poison they were injected with. "Nico," he repeats, slowly shifting to his knees to crawl to the back wall where his sister lays. He reaches Nico in what feels like a painfully long amount of time and stops beside her head, using a hand to press two fingers to her neck. A normal pulse beats under his touch and he sighs through his nose in mild relief.

"Nico," he says again, moving his hand from her neck to her shoulder. "Nico." Michael shakes her shoulder and earns a rolling groan in reply. "Wake up."

A stream of incoherent gibberish falls from Nico's mouth as she haphazardly slaps at the air near her brother's hand. "Whaaa!?" she finally manages, cracking an unfocused eye open as Michael jostles her. "Stooop," she whines, swiping her brother's hand away from her shoulder and rolling to her back.

"Are you alright?" Michael asks, grabbing her shoulder and helping his sister sit up.

"I think so," she replies, rubbing the side of her neck and wincing. She moves her hand back into view and frowns slightly at the small, crimson smear on her palm. "What happened?"

"We were attacked," he answers stoically, glancing around the area they're trapped in. The room is about the size of a bedroom, and the rest of the walls are the same as the one Michael first spotted, save the one made entirely of bars facing the hallway. Three, bare lightbulbs hang in random places on the ceiling, casting a dim, orange glow around the room. "Though I can't remember how long ago it was."

Nico groans and rests her head against the wall behind her. "My head hurts," she grumbles, lifting both hands to her head and rubbing her eyes with her palms. "When I find that jackass that put us in here-"

"Language," Michael interrupts, shifting to sit beside his sister and rest against the wall. Nico hums in acknowledgement and allows the end of her sentence to fade away. "The headache is from the poison," he explains, feeling the empty sword holsters on his belt when he settles. "It'll fade in a few minutes. Just calm down and let it run its course."

"I am calm," Nico counters lazily, dropping her hands to her lap. "I just don't like feeling...heavy."

Michael nods in agreement and allows his eyes to shut. "I don't either," he says. "But we can't do anything until it's all gone. Be patient."

A moment of silence falls over the siblings and they relax in it for a moment before Nico speaks. "I gotta pee," she states flatly, glancing at her brother from the corner of her eye.

Michael frowns on disgust and opens an eye to look at her. "That's not my business," he grumbles, glaring at Nico from the open eye.

"Yeah it is," she retorts, sliding so she's leaning her back against the wall instead of just her head. "You're the big brother, so you have to find me a bathroom."

The older angel sighs through his nose and shuts his eye. "Again," he starts. "You are over eighteen thousand years old. You can find a bathroom on your own." Nico groans in aggravation and Michael sighs in a similar manner. "There's a bucket-"

"Hell no!" Nico snaps before he has a chance to finish the suggestion. "I am not peeing in a bucket! Don't even say it!" Michael closes his mouth at his sister's request and Nico sighs in heavy annoyance. "This is stupid."

They lapse into another silence that lasts until a door groans open from outside the bars. Michael tenses and straightens his back, but doesn't do much else. He doesn't want to risk attacking while drugged and possibly getting himself or his sister killed. Nico tenses as well, but she also clenches a fist and starts to stand and attack. Michael moves his hand and grabs her wrist, shaking his head once when Nico looks to him. She bites the inside of her lip as the outside footsteps approach, but leans back like her brother does.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she whispers, shaking his grip and resting both hands by her sides.

"I don't," he admits quietly, looking up slowly as three men reach their cell. "But being numb and attacking won't do anything."

"Morning you two," the leader man from before greets happily, smiling the same cool smile that makes Michael uneasy. "How'd you sleep? Awful I assume, am I right?" He releases a few amused chuckles at his own humor and Nico rolls her eyes. "Aw don't be like that, I just wanna talk. That is, if you're ready to talk like the mature adults in think you are."

Neither of the siblings reply, instead staring flatly at him and waiting for him to continue. The leader sighs and crouches down to be level with them. "Well," he says through a grunt as he squats. "If you're not willing to start, I'll meet you halfway." He extends an arm and sticks his hand through the bar, smiling in welcome and ignoring the multiple protests from his guards. "Hello. My name is Wes. Nice to meet you."

Nico releases a single, amused chuckle from her nose and turns to look at the wall ahead. "Idiot," she mumbles so only her brother can hear. "If I wanted to, I could pull his scrawny _butt_ through those bars and tear him a new one..."

Michael's lips twitch with a prideful smirk at his sister's remark and he follows her eye line to the wall. "And Father said I have the temper in the family," he replies quietly. "He clearly hasn't spent time with you."

Wes doesn't hear the siblings' discussion, either that, or he ignore them. He gives a mock frown and retakes his arm through the bars. "Aw, come on guys," he stage whines, causing Michael to sigh inwardly in reply. "I know we got off on the wrong foot. But I'm trying to make amends here! Can't you at least try to meet me halfway?"

Still no response from the angels. Michael can feel Nico biting back a smart comment or two, so he shifts a hand taps the back of hers. Her head tilts slightly in his direction and she shoots him a "I can handle this" look, earning a small approval nod from her brother in reply. Wes sighs and drops his chin to his chest. "Fine," he says, lifting his head up to look at them with a smile. "I can talk, you just listen."

He lifts a hand and one of his guards places the hilt of one of Michael's swords in hs palm. The older angel glances at Wes from the corner of his eye, but gives no other sign of acknowledgement. "This," Wes begins, voice light and hazy as if in a dream. "This is a beautiful piece of weaponry." He twists his wrist and twirls the blade in his hand, causing the guards to take a hesitant step back. "My boys had a field day playing with these babies." He stops twirling the weapon and aims the point at Michael. "Did you know these bad boys can cut through pure steel?" Michael doesn't reply, only exhaling slowly through his nose as he stares at the wall. Wes smiles again. "Of course you do," he answers for himself, lowering the point and jabbing the blade into the concrete. "They're yours."

He rests a hand on the top of the handle and uses his free hand to point at Nico. "Your...pole...thingie?" he starts, waving the hand in dismissive thought. "Yeah. Nobody likes that." He rests the hand on top of the other and rests his chin on that. "No one can find out what it is or what it does. We tried twisting, pushing, poking, hitting it against things... Nothing. As far as we can tell, it's just a pole."

Nico huffs once through her nose in amusement and turns to look at him. "Why don't you bring it here," she says, tone boarderlining taunting as her lips dance with the beginings of a smirk. "I'll show you how it works."

Wes lifts his head and am excited grin pulls up his lips. "Ha!" he shouts happily. "I knew you were listening!"

Michael turns his head and glares down at his sister, who shrugs nonchalantly and returns her gaze to the wall ahead. The older angel sighs through his nose and turns his attention to Wes. "What do you want?" he asks flatly, causing Wes to turn his grin to him. "To kill us? Torture us for information?"

Then smile is wiped off Wes's face as if he were smacked. "What?" he asks, causing Nico's eyebrow to rise in confusion. "No! No! Of course not! Why would you even think that?" The siblings exchange a look of mild confusion before the both turn their attention to the distressed Wes. "Dear Lord, guys. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

Nico starts to respond, but Michael taps her hand again to keep her from speaking. She seems to debate the severity of the outcome of her response, then closes her mouth and shifts her gaze back to the wall. Michael shakes his head and locks eyes with Wes. "Then what do you want?" he asks coolly. "You wouldn't be keeping us here unless it served a purpose."

Wes smiles again and stands, resting both hands on the hilt of Michael's sword as of he were a king. "I would like you two to join my army," he declares proudly, chest puffed out to give him the more of the regal look.

"No," Michael declines automatically, turning away to look at the wall again.

Nico shakes her head and leans back against the wall. "Not happening," she agrees, crossing one ankle over the other.

Wes's face falls again, clearly not expecting that kind of response. "What?" he questions, tilting his ear toward them as if not hearing them correctly. "Did you just say no?" Both angels are silent, so Wes drops his kingly stance, allowing both arms to fall to his side. His shoulders slump in defeat and his chin falls to his chest again. "You two are possibly the most problematic people I've ever had to deal with," he mutters, to the ground. With another sigh, he lifts his head and looks at the brother and sister. "No matter. You'll eventually see our side of things." He grabs the sword handle and pulls it from the ground, causing Michael's lips to twitch down in a frown. "I'll just keep these for now," he says, lifting the blade to rest it over his shoulder. "We'll be back. Hopefully you'll change your tune by the time we do."

The trio outside starts toward the door, Wes saying one more goodbye just as they exit. Once the door shuts, Nico pushes off the wall and jumps to her feet, releasing a loud, annoyed groan and stomping toward the other wall. "Damn it!" she moans in irritation, reaching the other wall and pacing back to where she was. "This is so stupid!"

"Patience, sister," Michael comments, pushing himself to is own feet as his sister starts her second lap. "We'll have our chance. The next time he comes, we'll strike."

Nico smiles and folds her arms over her chest. "Good," she says, coming back to start her fourth lap. "I hate that guy."

"He is irratating," Michael agrees as he watches his sister pace. "But I don't hate him. I just don't like him."

Nico hums in agreement and stops to tap a wall with her toe. "Hopefully he comes back soon," she mutters before turning back to walk to her brother. "I still have to pee."

But soon never comes. Minutes waiting turns into hours turns into half a day. Nico eventually breaks and uses the bucket, yelling at Michael until he presses himself into the farthest corner and pulls his coat over his head before she even considers relieving herself. When she finishes, she pushes the bucket toward the bars and silently prays they come and take it away.

Day turns into night and still no one comes for them. Eventually the angels grow wary from being on their feet all day and retake their places against the wall. Hunger nudges at the back of their minds, but they manage to quiet it with pointless chit-chat. Nico mainly leads the conversation, but Michael follows along to block out his own hunger. Eventually they lapse into silence and soon after sleep.

Three days pass in the same manner. No one comes to empty the bucket, much to Nico's distress. No one brings food or water. No one comes to ask if they're ready to surrender. No one even comes to check if they're still there.

The fourth day rolls around and Nico starts to voice her complaints, pressing her face against the bars and calling out to the closed door for someone to take the bucket. After a few hours, the teen's voice fades and she settles for pacing slowly around the cell. Day five starts with both angels lying on their backs to stare at the ceiling. Day six comes and goes with Nico banging her head against the wall and Michael using his hand to soften the blow. The seventh day consists of more pointless talk and Nico's complaining.

Finally, on the eighth day, Wes returns.

The siblings are in their usual place against the wall, Nico resting her head on Michael's shoulder and Michael resting his on the back wall. The door groans open from outside and Michael glances at the bars from the corner of his eye. Nico knows she doesn't have the energy to sit up and look, so she doesn't even try.

"Oh man," Wes says, stopping in front of the bars with his hands on his hips. "You guys look awful."

Using most of her remaining strength, Nico forces a sarcastic snort. "Can't look worse than you," she comments, earning a weak chuckle from her brother in reply.

Wes smiles widely and shifts to fold his arms over his chest. "Ha, ha, ha," he forces in equal sarcasm. "I couldn't have seem that coming." He sighs heavily and looks down at them. "Now that that's over, have you thought about my offer?"

Michael glances over at his sister, who closes her eyes and exhales tiredly. He returns his look to Wes not long after that. "Fine," he states, refusing to meet Wes's victorious gaze. "We'll join your army..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello readers! I have another chapter and little motivation! I'll definitely keep posting, but it'll be when I want as long as it doesn't exceed the two week time range! I'm lazy and ave two other stories in progress! Anyhow yeah!**

 **i own nothing!**

"I'm so glad you decided to join us," a light haired woman, who Michael and Nico found out is the actual leader of the operation, says through a professionally content smile. She came in a few minutes after Michael made the decision to join and Wes got excited and fled the room. "Wes told me that you two had a...rough introduction to the group. I plan on showing you that not everything is so violent in our way of life."

Nico peels an eye open and tilts her head to look at the woman. "This isn't violent," she grumbles as she sits up. "Major annoyance...That sounds about right."

The woman's smile rises slightly and she shifts, the annoyance clear as day on her face. "Wes told me you always need to have the last word," she says, voice clipped in a way that shows just how annoyed she is. "A bad habit to get into, young lady."

"I am much older than you," Nico replies trough a taunting smirk. "I just hide my age better than you. Though I will say, you wear yours well."

The other woman blinks in surprise and glances at both of her guards. "Am I supposed to be insulted?" she asks, earning an amused snort from Nico in reply. She turns her attention back to the angel in the cell and shakes her head. "Nevermind that," she continues, still holding on to whatever professionalism she has. "Will you two behave if we open the cell to let you out?"

"Probably not," Nico replies through a tried, yet very triumphant, grin.

Michael nods in agreement with his sister and manages his own smile. "Definitely not," he says. "I have a score to settle with the guard who shot me."

"I just want to fight," Nico says, turning her head to look at Michael.

"Of course you do," he sighs, tilting his head in her direction. "You always want to fight."

The leader woman clears her throat and earns the angels' attention again. "At least you're honest," she says, smile dropping and revealing the calm annoyance she has for the two. "I'll send a guard down with your food and water for the night. Tomorrow we'll discuss your work schedules and mission teams."

"I refuse to separate from my sister," Michael rejects quickly. "No separate teams. No separate schedules."

Nico snorts in mild amusement and rests her head on Michael's shoulder again. "Overprotective," she mutters, earning a quick shush in reply.

"That will be discussed in the morning," the woman says curtly before turning to the door. "I will be seeing you soon," she states as she and her guards start for the door. "I hope you two will have better attitudes when I do."

With that, the door opens and shuts and the angels are alone again. Michael shifts to sit up straighter and forces Nico to lift her head from its spot on her shoulder. The younger sister huffs and moves to lean against the wall as her brother stands. "I don't like her," she states, watching her brother start pacing through half closed eyes.

"I don't trust her," Michael says from halfway across the room.

"Didn't I say that?"

Michael rolls his eyes at his sister's comment and finishes his lap. "She seems too calm about having a higher angel and an archangel in her possession."

"Maybe they don't know our statuses," Nico offers with a tired shrug. Eight days with nothing to eat or drink with her lightning metabolism took a lot out of her, though she'll never admit it to anyone. "If they did, they'd do something worse than starve us out."

Michael ponders the thought and nods, standing in front of the back wall and turning for another go round. "That's a possibility," he agrees slowly. "But it still doesn't feel right."

The younger angel raises an eyebrow and motions around the room. "We're in a prison cell in a place we still have no name to," she starts. "We were just starved for a little over a week. A lady who looks too clean, considering everything going on right now, just waltzed in and basically told us we're upsetting. Which part of that sounds remotely close to right to you?"

Another agreeing hum from Michael as he starts another lap. "I hate to agree with you," he starts. "But you are right. I just..."

"Are so on edge you can't think straight?" Nico finishes with a raised eyebrow. "I can tell."

Michael shares the eyebrow raise and turns to face her from across the room. "How are you not?"

"Not what?"

"Terrified," he clarifies. "A few years ago, something like this would've had you weeping in the corner. Now..."

Nico manages a few lazy chuckles and allows her eyes to close fully. "I don't think a hundred years counts as a few, big brother," she says, earning unseen eye roll from her older brother in reply.

"That doesn't answer my question," Michael says through a mildly annoyed huff.

"You didn't ask a question," Nico replies coolly, cracking open an eye that gleams in amusement. "You aren't the only one with secrets."

"You're not old enough to have secrets," the older angel counters. "Well, life threatening ones that is."

Nico rolls her eye and closes it again. "We've been through wars, brother," she says, listening as the outside door opens again. "And in the more recent times, we've been alone through wars." Michael retakes his spot beside Nico and she huffs tiredly. "So don't tell me I don't have any life threatening secrets."

Michael opens his mouth to respond, but a pair of armed guards tromp in and stop in front of their cell. One guard lifts his gun and aims it at the siblings, providing cover for the second guard as he unlocks and opens the cell. The older brother knows the guard is scared. He can see it in the way his hand trembles as he sets down the covered trays and how he keeps his eyes trained on the two at all times. Michael wants to laugh and tell them that if he or his sister wanted them dead they'd already be on the ground, but he doubts that'll go over well with anyone besides Nico. As soon as the trays are down, the guard exits the cell and his partner shuts and locks it. After confirming the angels are no longer a threat, they turn and make a hasty retreat.

Michael moves first, rising and walking over to grab both trays from their spot on the ground. "Looks like the woman kept her end of the bargain," he comments, returning to Nico's side and handing her a tray. He would continue the other conversation, but Nico is getting defensive. The last thing he wants to do is get her to shut him out for an indefinite amount of time like she used to do. "You need to eat."

The younger angel snorts quietly and her faint smile is back. "I don't know what's in here," she counters, opening her eyes and taking the offered tray from her brother. "I could be allergic. Then the entire thing would be wasted."

Michael release a tired grunt as he slumps back to his spot. "You aren't allergic to anything," he responds, glancing at Nico as she opens her tray.

"Huh," she says, eyeing the well done steak, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables on the plate. "I was sure it was going to be oatmeal or something." She uses the edge of the cover to point at the steak. "When was the last time you've seen red meat?"

"Vega," he replies curtly as he opens his own tray. "They had a plant that kept things like that from running out for everyone V3 or higher."

Nico frowns in confusion and uses her fingers to scoop some potatoes from the pile. "You had an order system?" she says, lifting the potatoes to her lips. "That's stupid."

Michael rolls his eyes and reaches over to her tray. "Use your fork," he instructs, lifting the utensil to her eye line once she clean her finger. "You aren't an animal."

The younger angel snorts and plucks the fork from her brother's hand. "All humans evolved from animals, right?" she inquires, using the fork to stab at some of the vegetables.

"We're not human," he answers, picking up his own fork and knife to cut his steak.

The younger angel shrugs and lifts the fork to her mouth. "Technicalities," she says before taking the bite off her fork. "Next order on the agenda, your nightmares." Michael stiffens and pauses his cut halfway through the meat. A gut feeling tells Nico she should probably stop before she crosses a line, but she also gets the feeling he needs to talk about it. So she keeps going and hopes for the best. "You had two more a few nights ago. And don't bother telling me it's nothing. You were right beside me and you nearly broke my jaw when you swung in your sleep." She takes another bite of the vegetables and looks at her brother. "You need to talk to someone," she continues. "So since I'm the only one here..."

"I don't need to talk about it," Michael responds coldly, returning to his steak with a bit more force than necessary. "Drop it."

"Michael, everyone needs to talk about stuff," the younger angel counters, setting the fork back on the tray before she has a chance to take another bite. "You always made me talk about stuff when I was younger. Why can't you talk?"

"I said drop it," Michael snaps, leveling his full glare on the younger angel. The teen frowns deeply and turns her attention back to her own plate. Michael sighs through his nose and softens his glare. "I'm sorry," he says, tone still edged but softened considerably. "But as I said before, I'm not ready to talk about it."

Nico nods silently in understanding before lifting another bite of food to her mouth. "It's ok," she says around the fork. "I get it." A somewhat happy smile pulls her lips up as she removes the fork and finishes her bite. "I'll just bug you later."

Michael shares her smile and returns his gaze to his food. "Of course you will," he says, taking another bite and finishing before talking. "Stop talking with your mouth full."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello readers! I am happy to shout out readers XxLuvTheOriginalsXxX and Guest Sassy for rreviewing on every single chapter! I smiled like a dork every time the notifications came up! I love all of my readers believe me!**

 **Anyhow! Onto the chapter! I still own nothing!**

"So what's the master escape plan?"

"I'm working on it."

"You mean you haven't thought of one already?"

Heavy sigh.

"What kind of army commander are you?"

Michael tilts his head to look at his sister as she sips the single water bottle they were given. Apparently one of the guards realized they forgot to give them water with their food, so then they returned about an hour later and tossed a single bottle in. They've been passing it back and forth ever since, taking small sips and hoping they give them another. Well, Nico complains. Michael lets her and strategies their next move. Which isn't going well with her constant complaints.

"Good plans take time, Nico," he says, accepting the bottle when she offers it after her sip. "I'm usually given more than a week to figure everything out."

Nico groans in annoyed understanding and taps her head against the wall behind her. "The first part is getting the hell out of here," she says, lifting a hand to run through her slightly tangled shorter hair. "Next, I need a shower."

The older brother rolls his eyes and sighs once he takes a sip. "I think your shower can wait until we make a full escape," he says, capping the bottle and placing it on the ground beside his leg.

"I think you're insane," the teen replies, tilting her head to look up at him. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I feel...grubby." Once again, Michael rolls his eyes and Nico smiles. "Come on. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. How's the plan coming?"

"It's still as far as it was when you asked a few seconds ago," he replies through an annoyed huff. "I'm working on it."

Nico sighs and pushes herself to her feet, stretching her arms over her head before dropping them to her sides. "Well I have a plan," she says, padding over to the bars. "Break out and improvise."

She reaches out to grab a bar, but a firm hand clamps around her wrist before she can even brush a finger against the metal. "That's why you're never in charge of making plans," Michael says, pulling her hand away from the door. "Always rushing into things. You need to think."

"I am thinking," she says,whirling around and pulling her hand from his. "I'm thinking we need to get out of here before something really bad happens."

"It's more likely that you'll cause more trouble than you'll solve," he retorts, lowering his hand back to his side. "Charging out there with no plan or weapons. Not to mention you don't have the proper energy to start a full out attack on an army. Plus, as you said, we still have no idea where we are. So what are you going to do once you get outside? Assuming you make it that far before the army shoots you down."

Nico blinks in thought for a few seconds before frowning in annoyance and walking past him to the back of the cell. "We can just break down this wall," she offers, placing a palm on the cold blocks.

"That still doesn't help our weapons situation," Michael counters, folding his arms behind his back and turning to face her. "Plus someone would hear us before we make it halfway through."

Nico groans in annoyance and leans forward to set her head against the wall. "Damn... Problem solving is difficult."

A faint smile touches the edges of Michael's lips and he takes a step forward. "Just be patient, sister," he says assuringly. "We'll get out. Give it time."

Another annoyed groan and Nico pushes herself from the wall. "I'm not patient, Michael," she states, turning to lean her back against the wall instead of her head.

"I know that already," he replies through the smile. "But you have to trust me."

A smile similar to Michael's twitches on Nico's lips and she pushes away from the wall. "Don't I always?" she asks, walking forward and resting her head on his shoulder. "You better make this plan fast. I can't continue peeing in a bucket."

The smile disappears from Michael's face and he grabs both of her shoulders. "That's not something I wanted to hear," he says, pushing her away to hold her at arm's distance. "And I will work on the plan as fast as I can. If it makes you feel better, I have part of the plan worked out."

"Ooo!" Nico exclaims in excitement, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. "Can I hear?"

"No," the older angel responds, releasing her shoulder and dropping his arms to his sides.

Nico stops bouncing and watches as her brother turns and walks back toward the bars. "What?" she asks, eyebrows rising in shock and confusion. "I can't?"

"No."

"Michael!"

"Nico," he replies, turning away from the bars to face his sister. "You always question everything I say-"

"I do not."

"-so if I tell you my plan, you'll complain and refuse to do anything."

Nico frowns and folds her arms over her chest. "When have I ever not done what you told me?" she says expectantly. "Honestly."

"Pompeii," Michael retorts.

The teen rolls her eyes and unfolds her arms, raising them over her head in exasperation. "Are you ever going to let that go?"

Michael shakes his head with the faint traces of a smile on his lips. "You said be honest." Nico groans again and Michael's smile grows. "Anyway-"

The door opens and Michael gets quiet, turning to look through the bars as Wes and his usual guards approach. "Hey," the unusually happy man says, earning another, quieter, annoyed groan from Nico in reply. "How are my two little angels? Well. My one little angel. Michael's taller."

"And the sky's friggin' blue," Nico retorts through a forced smile and tightly gritted teeth. "What else is obvious?"

Michael shushes his sister, but Wes hears anyway and laughs. "I like her," he says, earning a roll of the eyes from Michael.

"Don't encourage her," he grumbles, causing Wes to laugh harder.

Once he settles himself, much to Nico's extreme joy, he wipes a seemingly real tear from his eye and places his hands on his hip. "You two seem like you have a good relationship going on," he says through his smile. "Mom said you requested not to be broken up."

This sparks a mild interest for Michael and he raises an eyebrow. "Mom?"

Wes nods. "The lady who came in and talk about schedules," he clarifies, causing Nico's eyebrows to rise slightly in surprise.

"That's your mom?" she asks, failing to hide her emotions. "I wasn't expecting that."

"They have the same eyes," Michael explains, turning his head slightly to look at her. "Their hair is the same color. They even share some of the same clothing choices. It's pretty obvious once you think about it."

Nico throws her arms up in exasperation and rolls her eyes. "Sorry for not being observant," she exclaims in annoyance. "I've only been starved for a little over a week and was forced to pee in a bucket!"

"Would you give it a rest with the bucket thing?"

"No I will not!"

Wes's smile turns nervous and he holds up a hand to stop the two from arguing. "Whoa there, guys-"

"It was a one time thing, Nico."

"I feel violated and humiliated!"

"Guys-"

"It was only me and you in the room."

"That's what makes it weird! You're my big brother!"

"I wasn't looking."

"But you were there!"

Wes clears his throat loudly and somehow manages to catch the angels' attention. "Guys," he says, a mild touch of relief swirling under his nonchalant tone. "Are you two done?" The siblings exchange a look before Nico shrugs. "Good," Wes says once he earns both of their attention again. "Now, if you two are ready, I'd like to take you on the grand tour of the place."

Michael raises an eyebrow at the statement. "Tour?" he asks suspiciously. "What do you mean tour?"

"A tour!" Wes says excitedly. "You know. Walking around. Seeing the place. A tour!"

The older angel rolls his eyes and sighs. "I know what a tour is," he says through his annoyed huff. "I meant why?"

"I feel like you two would be more comfortable working in a place of you knew the terrain," Wes explains. "So me and my boys are going to walk you around for a bit to let you get the lay of the land." He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a couple pairs of handcuffs. "Of course you're going to have to wear these. But that's only a small blip in the system, right?"

Nico raises an eyebrow and smirks smugly. "Sorry, man," she says in a halfway teasing tone. "I can't really say I'm much into handcuffs. But I do believe my big brother here likes that type of stuff."

Michael whips around and shoots her a glare, earning a flinch and nervous smile from his sister in reply. Wes, on the other hand, practically rolls on the ground laughing at the teen's joke, earning a warning glare from Michael in response. "Christ I like her!" he laughs, managing to pull a half smile from the teen in reply. "I gotta pee!" he exclaims through his laughter, pushing his guards out of the way on his way to the door. "Damn it! I gotta pee!"

Nico watches with a raised eyebrow as the man and his guards rush out of the room, the door closing loudly on their way out. "I swear I'm not that funny," she says, taking a few steps toward the back wall as her brother approaches the bars. "You seem distracted. You're not yelling at me for that joke. No that I'm complaining or anything. It's just weird."

"Nico, be quiet," Michael responds, turning to face her instead of the cell door. "I may have a plan."

The teen releases an excited sound and throws two victorious fists in the air. "It's about time!" she exclaims, earning a quick shush from her brother in reply. "What is it?" she asks in a quieter tone. "Can I hear it this time?"

"No," he says again with a slight shake of the head. "Just trust me and stay close when the time comes."

Nico scoffs in offense and drops her arms. "You're a terrible secret sharer, brother," she declares, moving to lean against their usual wall. "But since I clearly have nothing better to offer..." She sighs and slides to sit on the floor. "I'll play along for now, Michael," she says through a huff. "Don't let it take too long."

"That all depends on how long Wes takes in the bathroom," he explains, earning a mildly disgusted look from his sister in reply. "After the tour, we can get the plan started."

"Does it involve a bathroom break?" Nico asks, earning a slight glare from Michael in return. "I also have to pee, but I refuse to go in a bucket again."

"The tour can," Wes says cheerfully as he bounces back in. "Buckets are gross. We could stop at a bathroom."

Nico forces a grateful smile, that doesn't comes as forced as she expected, and rises to her feet. "Thank you," she says, eyes flicking between him and the guards opening the door. "That would be great."

"First things first," Wes says as one guard opens the door and steps in, a pair of handcuffs in each hand. "We can't just let you walk around free, can we? Mom said you said you'd cause trouble."

Nico tenses as the other guard enters the cell and takes a pair of handcuffs from the first. She passes a nervous look to her brother, who simply nods assuringly in her direction and turns to face the back wall. One of the guards stops behind him and fastens the cuffs around his wrists. The other guard stops in front of Nico and holds the cuffs up expectantly. The teen inhales deeply and turns around, holding her hands behind her so that the second guard can secure her wrists.

Once that's done, the guards grab both angels by their upper arms and lead them out of the cell, waiting till they're out before chains to each pair of cuffs like a leash. "Now that that's done," Wes says through a grin, clasping his hands together as he speaks. "We can get the tour started."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello everyone who is still here! I have been away for so long because I now have a job and it takes up all of my day! I can't promise I'll post sooner next time, but j now have a schedule at least. Anyhow, thanks for everyone who stayed around and who are new here! Enough of my talking! Onto the chapter!**

 **I own nothing!**

The tour gets on quickly after Nico's side trip to the bathroom. The facility is bigger than the angels imagined, having once been an old college campus. The entire base extends about two miles in each direction and almost every building has been repurposed to fit the needs of the apocalypse team. The old sports section of the campus is being used as a training area and armory. The kitchen and eating area is still being used as such, but there's less food being dished out each meal than a normal campus would serve. Only two of the seven dorm buildings are still being used as sleeping quarters. Four of the others burned down, two are being used as storage units and the other is being used as the jail Nico and Michael were in. Apparently that required a lot of work on everyone's part, gutting the building and replacing a wall with the gates of former residence houses a few miles down. There's a farm full of livestock in the old recreation field and a large garden a few yards away from that. The entire campus is surrounded by a large, concrete fence that's topped with barbed wire and a few expertly placed explosives. Wes claims he pitched the idea, but Michael gives a small snort only Nico knows to be disbelieving.

All and all, Michael has to admit, they have a pretty decent setup. But he also knows that they're weak and can easily be taken out from the inside. Of course he doesn't tell Nico this. He knows she'd start asking a million questions and blow the whole operation he has working before it even gets off the ground. So he simply follows along quietly, only saying something when Nico asks an obvious question or starts getting antsy when Wes insists on standing around to explain something.

"And finally," Wes announces as they reach the clock tower in the middle of the north fence. "The watch tower!"

Nico releases a low whistle at the seventeen story building as her eyes trace the entire structure. "Why do you only have one on one side of the wall?" she asks, barely turning her eyes away from the massive building to address Wes. "What if they attack from the south?"

"We can see it," he assures, taking a step forward to stand beside her, causing Michael to shoot him a glare from her other side. "The tower is the tallest on campus and someone is up there twenty-four hours a day on patrol. Plus there's always at least three people walking the fence line at any given point. If anything does make an appearance, we'd know and take care of it."

Nico hums in approval and gives a slight nod, still refusing to meet his gaze. Wes frowns at the lack of acknowledgement, but quickly wipes away the hurt with a smile. "Alright, kiddies," he says as he turns and starts walking, much to Michael's displeasure. "Time to get back!"

The guards tug harshly on the chains binding the angels and earns a small wince from Nico when her arms are pulled back farther than physically allowed. Michael turns the full force of his glare on the guard and actually causes him to pause, loosening his grip on the chain enough for Nico's arms to go back to their natural resting state. Wes must feel the force of the glare as well because he stops and turns back to face them.

"What's the problem, folks?" he asks, watching as Nico nods and Michael relaxes a tad. "Are we leaving?"

Michael holds his glare for a few seconds longer before turning to Wes and starting forward. "Yes," he says, practically dragging his guard behind him as he walks. Much to Nico's extreme amusement, she finds her guard practically jogging behind her to keep the chain from tightening. Michael's glare tends to have that effect on people.

The trip back to the jail building feels shorter now that the angels know the lay of the place and soon enough they're back in their cell on the top floor and released from their chains. As soon as the cell is locked and the tour guides leave, Michael walks over and takes Nico's hand. "Are you alright?" he asks, examining the small indentions the tight cuffs left on her wrists. "Did they-"

"If you ask if I got hurt, I will kill you," she says, shaking his hands away to rub her sore wrists. "Did you make the plan yet or what? I'm starting to hate this place."

"As am I," Michael agrees, still carefully eyeing the red marks on his sister's wrists. "And yes, I have made a plan."

Nico's lips pull into an excited grin and she starts bouncing on the balls of her feet. "It's about damn time!" she says, only stopping her bouncing when Michael plants his hands on her shoulders. "When are we getting out of here?"

Once Michael is sure his sister won't start bouncing again, he releases her arms and lets his hands fall to his sides. "Soon," he assures, shifting his eyes back to the barred wall of the cell. "But you still need to be patient."

The teenage angel rolls her head back and emits another one of her famous annoyed groans. "I've been patient, Michael!" she whines, spinning around to pace the cell. "If I get any more patience, I'll become a saint or something!"

Michael snorts loudly and folds his arms across his chest. "The day you become a saint is the day the world officially comes to an end," he says lightly, earning a sarcastic laugh from his sister in return.

"And the day you make a joke that is actually funny is the day I officially feed myself to one of the possessed," she counters as she turns and faces him.

"You'd feed yourself to an eight-ball by mistake if I weren't here," the older angel says, unfolding his arms and moving to their usual wall.

Nico scoffs in offense and follows her brother to the wall. "I've managed to survive for this long without you, brother," she retorts, turning and leaning her back against the wall. "I think I can handle myself for a bit longer."

"I doubt that," he responds as they both slide down the blocks to sit. "You're too immature to last longer than a few hours by yourself."

"Are you completely stupid? I am fully capable of taking care of myself, jerk," Nico counters through a round of light laughter as she smacks his chest with the back of her hand.

The older angel swats her hand away and relaxes against the chilled concrete blocks. "I still doubt that," he replies lightly, eyes falling shut in hopes of gaining some strength before the plan is put into action. "Get some rest."

Nico huffs through her nose in amusement and rests her head against the wall. "You don't have to tell me twice," she replies, allowing her own eyes to close as she talks. "Having to deal with those idiots all day drains me."

"Now you know how I feel."

"Bite me."

#########

It feels like he's only been asleep for a few minutes before warning sirens and bright, red lights fill the area. Michael jerks from his comfortable rest and is instantly on the defense, springing to his feet and making his way to the bars as Nico cries out in surprise. "Get up," Michael orders, already reaching for the swords that aren't there. "We need to move."

"What's going on?" the younger angel asks, clamoring to her feet with her hands over her ears. "Is this part of your plan or something?"

"No," Michael states, now in full battle mode as the front door opens. "But it can work."

Wes and his usual guards rush to the angels' cell, both guards aiming their weapons at the door as Wes stops in front of them. "We're under attack," Wes announces, earning a sarcastic huff from Nico in reply. "Stay here and we'll protect you."

Another sarcastic huff from Nico as Michael steps toward the barred door. "That's not possible," she says as her brother reaches out and grips the metal. "Besides, I believe we're leaving."

The guards whip around and train their guns on Michael, watching in slight shock as the bars bend under his grip. "Remove your hand from the bars!" the braver of the guards orders, clicking the safety off his gun as Michael pulls on the bars. "Remove-"

But he doesn't have time to finish his threat. With a bit more effort than necessary, due to his weakened state, Michael yanks one more time and the bars give. The entire door flies from the hinges under Michael's influence and brushes by Nico when the momentum carries it from Michael's hands to crash in the back of the cell. The guards cry out in shock and fire.

Nico moves fast, leaping in front of Michael and snapping her wings out in front of her. The bullets collide with her wings and bounce off, leaving a slight tingle in the places they hit. Once the random shooting stops, Nico unfolds her wings and lashes out, knocking the guards into the back wall and rendering them unconscious heaps on the ground. Without missing a beat, she turns to Wes and strikes, hitting him in the jaw with the back of her first hard enough to dislocate it. He doesn't go down, though, so she uses the spin to guide her other hand around to shove Wes's head into the wall.

The cell holder's eyes roll back and his knees buckle, he too crumpling to the ground without restriction. Nico winces slightly when a small trail of blood rolls from the impact point on Wes's head, but he breathes regularly, so the guilt fades quickly. "So, brother," she says, an extremely sarcastic, obviously forced lighthearted tone easing in. She spins around on a heel, turning the full force of a weak, tight lipped grin on her brother. "Care to fill me in on that plan now?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Due to the possible cancelation of the wonderful show that is Dominion (still sobing), I have decided to not follow the season two storyline. Everyone will be reunited and a few elements of the season will be included, but I can't just leave it like they did ya get me?**

 **I'm sorry I'm posting late again. Work is a bitch and I'm always tired now. Laziness kicks in and I end up hating hownlong I wait to post. But it might happen again, so I apologize in advance if it does. Anyway, onto the chapter!**

 **I own nothing**

 _The girl lands roughly on the ground, her grip on her weapon lost as she skids and tumbles along the muddy grass of the area. She doesn't have time to check for injuries, but the sting in her left elbow tells her it's skinned._

 _No time._

 _Forcing down the urge to stop and breathe, the girl claws her way to a stop and rolls to her knees, quickly scanning the area for the familiar black of her weapon. A simple glint in the dying sunlight draws her attention to her right and she's moving, scrambling over to her weapon before her enemy could reappear._

 _Just her luck, though, as soon as she clamps a hand around the handle, a heavy boot stomps down and prevents her from lifting. A sword appears in her vision, whizzing through the air to the left of her head in a decapitation blow._

 _No time._

 _The blade kisses the air beside her neck._

 _No time._

 _Everything stops._

 _Her eyes press close and..._

 _"Dead."_

 _Nico peels an eye open when a shadow steps in front of the sun. A defeated sigh pushes past her lips as she lifts gaze to her brother's. "I hate you," she says, causing a small smile to tug up Michael's lips. "That hurt."_

 _"That means you're learning," the older brother replies, removing his sword from his sister's neck. "The pain-"_

 _"Assures you won't make the same mistake twice," Nico finishes sarcastically as she attempts to yank her weapon from under her brother's foot. "You've made the same lecture about thirty times since I've begun training. That was seventy years ago, brother."_

 _The smile on Michael's face widens. "Then why are you still making mistakes? If you're tired of my lectures, then stop making me make them."_

 _"Patience brother," a familiar voice says from behind, earning a wide grin from Nico in response. Two wing flaps and the squish of footfalls on the mud causes the youngest angel to leap up and run to the newest arrival._

 _"Gabriel!" she cries happily, closing the distance between herself and her other brother and leaping into his arms. "It's been ages!"_

 _"It has been a while," Gabriel agrees, hugging his sister close and smiling at his brother over her shoulder. "But ages is an exaggeration." Nico releases Gabriel and drops lightly to the ground, feeling the cold mud squish between her bare toes and smiles. "What are you doing?" the oldest brother asks, watching Michael stoop down and pick up Nico's discarded weapon._

 _"Training," Michael replies, extending the black bar to his sister as he speaks. "Trying to at least. Nico can't seem to grasp the concept of attack."_

 _Nico frowns slightly and steps forward, snagging her weapon and replacing it in the casing on her hip. "I can attack," she counters through an insulted scoff. "You're just a bad teacher."_

 _"I doubt that."_

 _Gabriel laughs and places a hand on Nico's shoulder, preventing her from replying to the taunt. "Now, now," he says, pulling an annoyed huff from the youngest sibling in reply. "Maybe Nico just isn't meant for battle." He feels her shoulders sag disappointedly and gives her a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, little sister," he says, smiling down at her. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Not every angel is a warrior. You should've seen Michael during his first few years of training."_

 _Nico manages a few laughs at the teasing as Michael sighs and replaces his swords. "We all start somewhere," he defends as Nico frowns down at the mud caked onto her clothes. "We'll pick up tomorrow," he says. "Go get cleaned up."_

 _"Then we can go out for ice cream," Gabriel says, earning an excited grin from the youngest in the process._

 _"Yay!" she says before turning to Michael. "What's ice cream?"_

####################

Eightballs swarm the area around the jail building, causing the siblings to lash out at the threat no sooner than they step outside. Already the entire campus is in chaos, the screams of battle and fear rising above the blaring sirens that do nothing against the attack. Blood and other sticky, smelly liquids pool on the ground near their building and grow larger and more frequent as they get closer to the center of the compound. Michael is surprised at the amount of panic confined to such a relatively small area.

"Stay close!" he orders, kicking away another two eightballs as he does. "We're heading for the armory!"

Nico releases an uncharacteristic sound and Michael turns, watching as she grabs and breaks the neck of a once approaching enemy and throw the body into a line of approaching eightballs. Her hands tremble slightly as she turns to face her brother, an unfamiliar look of hollow hostility taking place of her normal bubbly glee. "Armory," she repeats, voice just as empty as her eyes as she shifts her gaze in the right direction. "Right. Let's go."

Michael stares for a moment, unable to process the new layer of his sister. "Armory," he settles, following her gaze and starting off. "We get our weapons and we get out. We'll gather supplies and provisions if we can."

"What about them?" Nico asks as they run, nimbly jumping over a fallen soldier and refusing to look back. "We can't just leave them to die, brother!"

"We'll help if we can," he replies, knocking aside another advancing possessed and leaping over a burning corpse. "Our main priority should be escape." He doesn't receive an immediate response and pauses, skidding to a stop and whipping around to face her.

"Our main priority is life," Nico counters, struggling to gain the upper hand against a couple eightballs. "It shouldn't matter whose!"

The older brother rushes in, reaching in and grabbing an eight-ball by the back of the neck. Michael yanks the monster away from his sister and launches it into the air, setting up to take on the next one when the first hits a building. In the time it took for Michael to remove the first assailant, Nico managed to get the upper hand and pin the second one on the ground between her knees. She holds the throat and uses a quick twist of the wrist to dispatch it. She sighs heavily and releases the corpse, looking up at her brother as she rises. "We need to help," she states, the tone she uses strange on her tongue. "They clearly can't do it themselves. We need to help."

Michael takes a second to just look. To him, it was just a few years ago when his little sister couldn't even lift a hand against a bug. Now she's removing enemies without batting an eye. "What happened to you?"

Nico looks taken aback as the words slide from his mouth, only looking that way for a few seconds before returning to her unusually calm fight mode. "I could ask the same thing to you, brother," she replies coldly. "Leaving these people to die-"

A terrified screech echoes off the walls of the buildings behind them and Nico spins, not even taking the time to examine the situation before launching herself in. "Nico!" Michael shouts, watching his sister bolt toward the sound of peril. Knowing she's not going to turn back, Michael tosses another look over his shoulder and rushes after her, already looking for anything to use as a weapon.

Twelve eightballs circle around the petrified leader of the compound, her two guards continuously squeezing the trigger of their empty guns in hopes it helps. Since she started moving first, Nico arrives first, snapping out her wings and slicing open the stomachs of the four attackers that don't move fast enough. The other three fourths jump back, growling curses before jumping back to their original distance. Nico whirls and her wings lash out again, missing all but one who jumped back again.

"OK..." she mutters, folding her wings down as she watches the possessed circle and spitting more curses. "Time for a new plan." Michael appears behind a pair of the eight-ball army and swings, the fire axe he found lopping the heads off easily. "Michael!" she cries in mild relief,stepping back between the leader and a guard. "Grab and go!"

Without waiting for a response, she grabs the middle of the leader and the guard's shirt and snaps her wings out again, flapping down hard and instantly shooting three stories in the air. Her brother isn't far behind with the last guard, all three humans screaming and thrashing and making it harder to hold them. Nico grunts a bit and heads toward the front gate, almost losing her grip on the guard and having to shift him at the last second.

They land lightly on the top of the wall, both of Nico's passengers nearly falling off when their legs wobble under them. "There is a way down from this, right?" Nico asks after Michael lands.

The leader lady nods and uses her closest guard to stabilize herself. "Where's my son?" she asks, voice wavering as she scans the panic filled area. "Where's Wes?"

Nico winces slightly. "We knocked him out and left him in jail," she explains, watching his mother's face change from mild concern to pure horror. "But there was nothing in there when we left," Nico explains quickly in attempt to soothe her. "We'll go get him!"

"Please!" the mother cries, watching through clouded eyes as the angels launch themselves back into the air and head back into the chaos.

The angels land in the middle of the town, back to back facing opposite ends of the hell town. "Weapons first?" Nico asks, clenching a fist at the sight of a teenage corpse. "Or just fight?"

"Evacuate the civilians first," he says, only a mild reluctance hinting in his tone. "Weapons when we have a chance. We get everyone out, get our weapons, and burn everything down when we're done."

The younger angel raises an eyebrow, turning her head slightly to look at him. "Bit excessive," she comments, eyes wandering to a younger group of children being back into a corner by a lone eightball. "But fine. Go!"

And with that, the angels dive into battle. Nico, of course, heads straight for the children, easily taking out the single attacker and tossing the corpse away. The children scream and try to flee at first, but Nico grabs all four of them by the waist and takes off, not bothering to land them on the top of the wall in fear of them falling. So she simply takes them all the way over the wall and drops them near the stairs the leader and her guards are descending. "Say put," she orders, stopping any further comments as she watches a herd of eightballs approaches. "Uhh...hold up."

At the same time, Michael races through the streets of the hellish campus, killing eightballs and flying civilians to the wall at a pace that would make anyone's head spin. It almost does, actually. Some of the victims throw up after being dropped off at the wall, others feel extreme dizziness. Michael notices but doesn't pay it mind. He rather they be throwing up and dizzy than dead.

He rushes back and forth between the wall and the chaos before pausing to take a breath on the roof of the jail. There's still a lot of people to save a more eightballs swarming than he can count, making him wonder if he and Nico are going to be enough to save everyone.

At the thought of his sister, Michael's eyes turn skyward, expecting to see her either returning from a drop or taking someone to a drop. His search turns up fruitless, so he turns his attention back to the ground. Nothing. A small lump of worry forms in the pit of his stomach and he's in the air, wings pumping fast as he scans the area for the missing younger angel.

Nico catches the shadow of her older brother circling the encampment and almost calls for him, only refraining because it would break her concentration. With another horde of the possessed trying to break through a larger portion of the wall, Nico needs not only her weapon, but possibly another set of hands in the defense. But since the inside is still in peril, she just lets him go on circling and diving and whatnot.

As the amount of people exiting the city increases and the energy and fear in the air, it sends more of the horde into somewhat of a feeding frenzy. Her moves are faster, though, but the rising number of assailants forces her to be in multiple places at once. Luckily enough, the human mentality causes them to flock together in times of crisis, making it easier to defend a group when it's an actual group instead of tiny huddles all over the place. She still wishes Michael would come help, but she knows he's needed elsewhere.

Back in the compound, Michael hauls the now conscious Wes and his two guards from the soon to be overrun jail building and sets them on the top of the common area. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" Wes shouts, scrambling back from Michael as soon as his feet hit the ground. "I try to help you and this is what I get!"

"We have bigger problems than our disagreement," the archangel replies, watching as small group of civilians join up and attempt to defend each other from oncoming attackers. "We need evacuate the city and burn it down."

"What!?" Wes exclaims, taking two supposedly aggressive steps forward. "We are not burning this place down! Do you know how long it took us to build it up?"

"It's about to be overrun," Michael counters, taking his own step forward and causing Wes to take one back. "That means that even if we manage to get everyone out safely, the swarm will follow. The eightballs will outnumber us and everyone we saved will be killed." Wes doesn't respond so Michael continues. "What we need to do is evacuate the civilians, trap all the possessed inside, and burn the city with them in it."

It takes a second for Wes to process the information, but a look of clear defeat and understanding comes across when it clicks. "We have a few charter busses parked about half a mile away," he starts somberly. "They're already stocked and filled up to take everyone to the backup location if a situation like this ever came up. We can get everyone out and start the journey there as soon as this place goes down."

"Good," Michael says, unfurling his wings and preparing to head out. "Arm every able bodied person and get them to the wall. Make sure all the buildings are clear. Everything goes up in ten minutes."

The guards look to Wes for guidance, earning a nod from him in reply. "You heard him," he says. "Get moving."

With that, the guards break off and head for the fire stairs, already firing at the eightballs that try to make their way up. Wes turns to Michael and sighs. "What do we do?"

"Get weapons," the older angel says, turning to the edge of the roof and stepping onto the ledge. "The more people we arm, the better off we'll be."

"Sounds like a plan," Wes agrees, walking over and standing beside Michael. "How do we get-" A hand clamps on the back of his shirt and he's off the ground, releasing a steady stream of swears and declarations of fear. Michael simply rolls his eyes.

Outside, the herd of eightballs thins, some fleeing before they even reach the front lines. Even with the thinning swarm, Nico is starting to feel the effects of non-stop battle. Her movements are getting sloppy, legs and arms starting to wobble and tremble under the strain of movement. Breathing and fighting at the same time is becoming a chore and she often finds herself on the verge of death when she picks one or the other. The civilian group grows as time goes on and makes more ground for her to cover, especially when they decide they need to space themselves out to treat the wounded. So as the space grows, so does the amount of energy she needs to expend trying to save them.

She swings a bit too wide and stumbles, allowing the eightball enough room to gain the upper hand and pin her on the ground. The aches in her body are intensified by the impact with the dusty concrete of the abandoned road and she grunts, barely mustering the strength to hold the beast back. The added weight causes her arms to shake violently and strain, making her wonder how long she's going to last. A terror-filled wail draws her attention to the left and she watches as a pair of possessed close in on a group of people. Her energy attempts to pique at the sight, but it only succeeds in burning her out faster.

Her arms buckle for the final time, but the beast doesn't take the killing blow. Instead, it actually falls back. She would allow herself the time to breathe, however the people are still crying and the horde is still here. So she tosses the body aside and rolls onto her stomach, only ending up getting to her feet in time to see the monsters being blow away.

"Huh?"

"Nico!"

Her eyes go skyward and her arm snaps out, catching her weapon before she even processes the move. Michael lands lightly on the top of the wall, his wings folding down but not away. "I told you to keep it clean," he calls over the gunfire the soldiers lay down from beside him.

Nico smirks and takes the bar into both hands, twisting hard and feeling the grit coated metal turn in her grip. "It just requires a bit more patience," she comments, feeling the weapon click in the correct position. "There."

The teen snaps her arm down hard, causing the bar to slide into a narrow longsword. Nico smirks and twirls the blade in her hand, getting reassociated with the weapon she hasn't had to use in a while. "You handle inside, Michael," she says, sizing up the remaining group of eightballs. "I got it covered out here."


	9. Chapter 9

**Surprise!**

Even with the added help and weapon she now has, Nico feels the toll of battle slowing her down. The aches of being still for so long haven't had the chance to fully work out, so jumping into battle without stretching first was a bad idea on her end. It's not like she had a choice, though, so she simply grits her teeth and plows on. Quite literally she might add.

Other than having to jump out of the way of poorly aimed bullets, the younger angel can honestly say the fight is starting to tilt in their favor. Of course she doesn't say it aloud or even think about it too long because she doesn't want to jinx their odds, but she does take pleasure in watching the swarm of eightballs shrink and the crowd of civilians grow. There is a small portion of her that worries about the whereabouts of her older brother, but she sees his shadow moving passing across the sun every once in awhile, so she only keeps the thought in the back of her mind.

A horrified wail rings out and Nico turns, just in time to see an eightball tear the throat out of a young woman in the crowd. "Shit!" the black haired teen cries, darting forward and driving her blade through the monster's face. She lifts the corpse over her head and tosses it aside, quickly dropping down to the woman's side as she stammers and claws for air. "Hold on," Nico mutters, tearing off part of her shirt and pressing it to the wound. "Hold on, hold on, hold on."

She whips around and calls for help, only to feel the woman's shaking hand tightly grip her own. Nico's eyes snap back to the bloodied face in time to watch the woman take her final shuddering breath. The teen barely has time to bite back the sob that pushes from her core, hot tears already cutting salty track in the grime on her face. Her eyes press shut but the image is already there, the last look of fear the woman wore as she died now burnt into her memory.

Another terrified scream pierces the air even over the gunfire and Nico freezes, a fresh rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins at the sound. Her jaw locks and her grip tightens on her weapon. Before the eightball even reaches the edge of the crowd, Nico is there slicing a large section of his midsection to ribbons. She watches the body drop and flicks the blood off her blade before launching herself into another string of possessed.

#####

"Watch that block!" Wes calls, taking a hand off his gun to indicate a road to his left. "The storm shelters are down there! People may be-"

An eightball rushes from behind and grabs a handful of Wes's shirt, not being able to do anything before Michael's blades slice the hands from his arms with one blade and stabs him through the chest with the other. Once the enemy is dead and Michael assures himself no other threat is in the immediate area, he turns to face Wes. "Where are the shelters?" he asks, trying to ignore the other man's disgust as he picks the severed hand off his shirt.

"Half a block down," Wes responds once he throws the hand away. "Second door on the right side of the street." He regains his composure quickly after that and raises his gun again. "I don't know if they're in use but I still need to check."

"I know," Michael answers, flicking blood from his blade and starting down the indicated street. "Stay close."

"You don't have to tell me twice," the soldier man assures, almost running to keep up with Michael's hastened pace. "Right there. The red door."

Michael nods in understanding and turns to the needed door, stopping beside it and gripping the knob as best he can around his sword. He receives a confirmation nod from Wes as he raises his gun and takes aim. After a short mental countdown, the archangel twists the knob hard enough to break the lock and pulls the door open, immediately jumping from his spot to level his blade at the possible threat. A group of older men and women raise their own shaky weapons as the doors open, all of which put themselves in front of a group of crying children.

Wes is the first to realize the situation and he quickly lowers his gun, making sure to knock Michael's weapons down as he does. "Whoa," he calls gently, raising his hands high to show no threat. "We're here to get you out."

It seems to take a moment for the group to process the words before they lower their weapons, earning a relieved sigh from Wes in response. "What's going on?" an older woman asks, just barely lowering her gun to him.

A small building falls behind the two men outside and Michael's wings snap out, shielding them from the cloud of dust and debris that rises from the destruction. "No time," he says, turning fast and scanning for any threats. "We need to move."

Wes helps the elders guide the children out of the shelter and between the adult group as they emerge before they all move toward the extraction point. They ended up picking up three more people along the way, but they don't have any other hiccups other than that. They hit the wall after a few minutes and Michael is up, taking three children up at a time before they're all gone and then two adults at a time.

He lands the last time and glances around, Wes doing the same through the sights of his gun. "Is that it?" the soldier asks, firing at two eightballs as they try to approach. "Was that the last of them?"

"It seems like it," Michael replies, rolling out his shoulders and stretching his wings. "We need to leave. The charges will go off soon and everyone has to be away when they do."

Wes nods in agreement but continues to scan the surrounding streets. "We should make another lap," he insists, watching pack of eightballs charge the street across from them. "See if anyone's still around."

The archangel almost protests, but he stops himself once he spots the pleading look in Wes's eyes. "Fine," he settles, stepping forward and grabbing the other man by the front of his shirt. "I'll look, you go."

"Wha-" Wes doesn't have time to finish his statement before Michael launches them upward and sets him on the wall.

"Find my sister," the archangel instructs, hovering just above Wes as he gathers his bearings on the wall. "Tell her to start moving everyone toward the buses. I'll catch up."

The soldier doesn't have time to respond before Michael leaves, diving downward and racing through the streets. Wes watches him for a few seconds before sighing dramatically and waving after him. "No, no, it's OK," he huffs sarcastically, waving a lazy arm as he starts toward the ladder. "I'll be fine. It's only a possible seventy foot drop. Just leave me dizzy. I'll be alright."

#####

Another enemy falls to Nico's blade, her movements slow despite the extra adrenaline that she just had. Everything from before is starting to go. Her body is starting to tremble with the remnants of energy. Her vision blurs every once in awhile. Her arms and legs are stiff and sore.

Of course no one can actually see that. Nico herself is a whirl of movement, all her pain and discomfort are hidden from view as she races around the outer perimeter of the civilians. The eightball herd is thinning thanks to the additional help the soldiers provide, but that doesn't mean the fight is over. Every time one of the possessed falls, two more dart forward to take its place. It almost makes Nico wonder if they're actually doing anything at all.

One of the guards cries out as three eightballs force him to the ground, all of which claw and tear at his armour. The younger angel is there in an instant, yanking off two of the assailants and running the final one through the chest with her sword. The monster falls dead and the soldier throws it off, quickly shuffling from under the bloodied beast and jumping to his feet.

"Are you alright?" Nico asks, grabbing the soldier's arm and dragging him toward her. "Are you hurt?"

The soldier's eyes widen in shock and he nods stiffly. "Y-yeah," he replies. "I'm fine."

Nico keeps her grip on him for a few seconds before nodding twice and letting go. "Good," she huffs, glancing behind him and spotting another three eightballs. "Go cover the East," she instructs as she shoves him in the right direction. "Hurry."

The teen doesn't wait for a response before she goes after the approaching group, thankful for the smaller numbers and lessening stress. She can tell everyone else is thinking the same thing. The soldiers are becoming more daring, getting closer to the fight and offering assistance to those who need it. The teen is happy to see the change in the humans, but she wishes they would move faster.

Nico finishes off the three she sees and pauses for the first time in what feels like forever. Her breathing is heavy and a sheen of sweat covers her face and torso, making it difficult to blink without getting some in her eyes. Her hands tremble and blister with how tight and long she's been holding her weapon. A passing thought flickers by about how sitting down for a moment won't be a bad thing with how hard her legs are shaking, but she doesn't pay it too much attention. She knows if she sits down, she won't get back up.

The teen pushes the tempting thought out of her head and exhales deeply, barely processing the footsteps that rush toward her before she moves. Her blade levels with the neck of the approaching body, only to have it barely stop itself from being impaled. "Whoa!" Wes exclaims, hands raised in surrender with widened eyes. "Not a threat!"

Nico blinks and reaches forward, yanking Wes by the front of his shirt and throwing him behind her. Once he's clear, Nico lashes out with her sword and takes the head from an approaching eightball. "What's going on?" she asks, turning on a heel to watch Wes stand. She mentally apologizes for throwing him so hard, but he gets up easy enough, so she thinks he's alright. "Where's-"

"Michael's fine," the soldier interjects, sending panicked glances all over the place. "We need to start moving now."

"What? Why?"

"The entire place is going up soon," he responds in a rush. "We need to be out of range before it does."

Nico's eyes widen in shock and she lifts a hand, tightly grabbing a handful of of her hair in exasperation. "You're fucking joking!" she huffs. "We're still surrounded. A lot of people are injured-"

"We don't have a choice," the man interrupts again, leveling his gun and firing at two approaching eightballs. "Either we move, or everyone dies."

A tired groan rolls from the back of Nico's throat and she releases her hair, turning to face the wall and waving her arms at the guards near there. "I'll spread the word," she responds. "You get a group together and try to clear us a path."

"Aye aye, chief," Wes says as he hurries off in another direction. "We can move in half a minute."

"I hope so."

They separate and attack, Nico shouting orders to the guards on the wall and waving her hands to make her point. A shadow passes by overhead and Nico stops, raising her head just in time to see Michael land behind her and lower two men to the ground. "Nico," he calls, easily reaching her and keeping up as she continues for the wall. "What aren't you moving yet? The-"

"City is about to blow up, I know!" Nico finishes as she shoves people along. "I just got your message. We're moving everything as fast as we can. You know how slow people are."

Michael is about to respond, but they reach the wall before he can. Nico barks an order to the guards to get everyone moving and things are in motion, guards racing around to the civilians to get everyone going. The angels watch for a moment as the guards either help get people in gear or take out the remaining eightballs. "Why are we bombing the whole place?" Nico finally asks once she sees they might have a free second. "We have everyone safe. We can just go in and clean up now."

"Because it's completely overrun," Michael replies, watching the ongoings carefully. "There's a breach in the southeastern wall no one saw to that's too big to fix now. There are too many of the possessed getting in. By the time we've dispatched of all those in there now, they will have doubled their numbers. It's not worth it."

Nico chews on the inside of her lip for a few seconds before huffing and nodding in agreement. "I guess you have a point," she admits, earning a slight look of surprise from her brother in response. "Don't get used to me saying that, either. It doesn't happen that often."

The older brother rolls his eyes and readjusts his hands on his swords. "It happens quite often actually," he corrects, pulling a sarcastic bark of laughter from his sister. "You just don't want to admit it."

"It does not," Nico counters, narrowing her eyes at a slow moving couple in the back of the running crowd. "You're just a smartass who doesn't know how to shut up about it."

A faint smile teeters on his lips but is wiped away when a low pitched hum echoes over the chaos. The angels blink in confusion and every else hesitates, only being snapped back into action when Wes starts shouting. "What's he saying?" Nico asks, tilting her head to the assumed direction of the sound.

"I don't know," Michael admits as a ear popping explosion rings out from the other side of the wall.

Nico stumbles as the world tilts under her feet, the only thing stopping her from completely going down being the hand Michael clamps on the back of her shirt to keep her up. "I know what he's saying!" Nico declares, taking hold of her brother's arm and pulling him behind her as she runs. "I know what he's saying!"

The rest of her words are drowned out by the rest of the charges going off and the terrified screams from the citizens that follow suit. Nico and Michael struggle to remain on their feet as they put more distance between themselves, the group, and the explosion. They manage to outrun most of the larger chunks of debris that fly from the burning compound, but the dust cloud soon catches up and their world goes completely gray.

 **Hello hello my lovlies! Long time no see! I'm sorry for such a long hiatus! I was off my game for a long time but I'm slowly building up to play catch up! I'll try to post on the weekends (seeing how I finishes this one in a day) but I make no promises.**

 **To those who stayed, thanks. To those just joining, welcome. To everyone in general, thanks for everything.**


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